


Paint me your sorrows

by BumblebeeBabyDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Croatoans, End of the World, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumblebeeBabyDestiel/pseuds/BumblebeeBabyDestiel
Summary: It's the end of time, croatoans hiding around every corner, but in the camp...Cas paints.Sometimes Dean watches,Sometimes they talk, and sometimes they don't.And sometimes they both really want to bring up the fact they are no longer as close as the once were.





	Paint me your sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short angst Drabble for y'all, set during endverse!  
> Hope you enjoy the depressing sadness ( suffer with me friends) x

"What's this one mean?"  
"I don't know, I just liked the colours."  
Castiel turned to Dean, raising his brows in a silent challenge.  
"There's so much black."  
Dean looked over the painting again, or rather, charcoal drawing.  
The charcoal was shaded to perfection, which Dean guessed has to do with the fact Cas was once an angel with unlimited time to watch humanity.  
But that wasn't what intrigued Dean, Dean had seen all of Cas's paintings, all of them were amazing, (even if he never told Cas that), but this one seemed to depict something deeper than just the charcoal.  
"Is... is that your cabin?"  
Cas paused, hand hanging in mid air, joint in between his fingers.  
He exhaled.  
"It is, good to know your still as observant as ever."  
Dean huffed, "Why your room? And why's it so dark?"  
"Why do you suddenly want to talk to me, Dean?"  
Dean hadn't expected that one, and he felt his chest constrict.  
Cas snuffed out the joint, done for the moment, and turned towards Dean.  
"You haven't spoken to me for months, not since you last visited in my cabin."  
Dean looked away, remembering his last late night escapade with Cas, remembering the crinkled sheets.  
"-and I understand, you've got troops to lead or whatever."  
Cas paused, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"You've voiced your opinions plenty of times on my choices, and I understand you may not agree with all of them-"  
Dean grunted.  
"-but you need to decide Dean, we can't keep doing this."  
Dean glowered at that. "What the hell do you mean? Doing what?"  
"You come here, watch me paint, watch me draw and occasionally make a comment, maybe try to start a conversation, or, you come here in brooding silence and watch me, if I try to engage with you, you snap at me and I-"  
"I miss you."  
The words had slipped out without Dean meaning them, and five years ago he would have run out of the room, tail between his legs, but the end was here, and Cas was well aware of the feelings Dean had for him.  
Cas tilted his head, and the world vomit climbed up deans throat.  
" I miss you, the old you, even though you mostly had a stick up your ass, and it hurts, man. Because I know it's my fault that your like this, you needed me and I turned my back to fight a losing battle against Sam, and in doing so I lost you too."  
Cas was glaring at Dean's holster like it had personally offended him, and Dean wasn't even sure if he was listening anymore.  
"And I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry this is what happened, I'm sorry i was such a shitty friend-"  
"Were we really just friends dean?"  
Blue eyes track Dean's, and he hesititates.  
"No," he murmured. "I guess not. We were maybe's, almost's, but never more."  
"Ca-"  
"I'm not going to lie, Dean. It has been very sucky, and depressing and morbid, and I can't blame you for any of it."  
He frowns caught in his thoughts.  
"You were doing what you always did, looking out for Sam. Sam was all you had-"  
"That's not true."  
"Let me finish" He snapped, finally done with tip toeing around this conversation.  
" Sam was all you'd had your whole life, and he was turning his back on you, abandoning you. And I think you couldn't handle that, Sam was the one person who was supposed to always be by your side. And he wasn't."  
Dean was now shifting uncomfortably, not completely happy with talking about his lost brother.  
"Dean, why do you think I stuck around? I didn't just do it for the meds."  
He grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes.  
"I stayed with you because I wanted to, because you needed someone even if you weren't ready to admit that. And so I paint, and you watch, and we pretend like everything is still moderately okay and we are still relatively close." He adds bitterly.  
Turning back to his artwork, he hums.  
"Who needs friends anyway?"  
"We were never just friends."  
"We just went over this."  
Dean huffed, reaching out to grab Cas by the shoulder.  
"Cas, buddy, I....."  
Dean hesitates. How could he say it? How could he say just thankyou? How could he simply say one word and hope Cas understands just how much he means it and how sorry he is and how he will emptily promises he'll change if he doesn't get killed first, even though they both no he'll go back to his cabin and drink his way underground?  
"If you are planning on thanking me, I advise you thank me in hardcore sex later. I'll be at my cabin."  
He picks up his snuffed out joint, and leaves dean standing sullenly at the painting.  
He sighs, inspecting the painting.  
Upon closer look he can almost make out the picture he first took of Cas and Sam smiling in bobbys kitchen, charcoal faces taunting him, but instead of a lone photo there are plenty more adorning Cas dresser, all including Dean and Cas, together  
Small faces blinked at up at him.  
"I'm sorry, Cas."


End file.
